In the shadow of the great philosophical schools of antiquity, a mysterious figure named Hermias emerges—not as a sage with a system, but as a satirist with a sting. With biting wit and ironic laughter, Hermias dismantled the lofty claims of Greco-Roman philosophy, not through theological treatise or rational discourse, but through parody and mockery. His slender work, Derision of the Gentile Philosophers, stands as a singular example of Christian polemic that ridicules rather than refutes, revealing the absurdity of human wisdom when divorced from divine truth.
Text and Editions
The work is titled Ἑρμείου φιλοσόφου Διασυρμὸς τῶν ἔξω φιλοσόφων, commonly translated as The Mockery of the Heathen Philosophers (Gentilium Philosophorum Irrisio). It consists of ten chapters.
– The first printed edition appeared in Basel (1553) and Zurich (1560), with Latin translations.
– Worth appended it to his edition of Tatian (Oxford, 1700).
– It was later included in the collections of Otto and Maranus, and reprinted in Migne’s Patrologia Graeca, Vol. VI, cols. 1167–1180.
For scholarly commentary, see Donaldson, Critical History, Vol. III, pp. 179–181.
The Work and Its Author
Nothing is known of Hermias (Ἑρμείας) beyond this one brief text. He calls himself a “philosopher,” though the term is used satirically, perhaps even ironically. His Derision is not a formal apology or theological treatise, but a sarcastic assault on the contradictions and absurdities of pagan philosophical systems.
Echoing Paul’s critique that “the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God” (1 Cor. 3:19), Hermias aims to expose the incoherence of human speculation by highlighting the chaos of competing doctrines about the soul, the origin of the cosmos, and the nature of man. His conclusion: philosophy, having no anchor in divine truth, collapses into absurdity.
Philosophy Reduced to Farce
Hermias begins with the conflicting theories of the soul and proceeds to mock the philosophers’ contradictory views with theatrical exaggeration. A sample from his discourse on the soul captures the work’s tone and method:
“I confess I am vexed by the reflux of things. For now I am immortal, and I rejoice; but now again I become mortal, and I weep; but straightway I am dissolved into atoms. I become water, and I become air: I become fire: then after a little I am neither air nor fire: one makes me a wild beast, one makes me a fish. Again, then, I have dolphins for my brothers. But when I see myself, I fear my body, and I no longer know how to call it, whether man, or dog, or wolf, or bull, or bird, or serpent, or dragon, or chimera. I am changed by the philosophers into all the wild beasts, into those that live on land and on water, into those that are winged, many-shaped, wild, tame, speechless, and gifted with speech, rational and irrational. I swim, fly, creep, run, sit; and there is Empedocles too, who makes me a bush.”
Here, the absurdity is self-evident. The passage parodies the endless permutations of philosophical anthropology, collapsing them into a kaleidoscope of animal forms and metaphysical confusion.
Purpose and Polemic
The central thesis of Hermias is that the wisdom of the Greeks, far from leading to salvation or enlightenment, is a product of demonic deception. He attributes false philosophy to the activity of demons—a common theme in early Christian polemic—and seeks to discredit it by highlighting its self-contradictions rather than offering a coherent alternative system.
The tone is light, even playful, yet barbed with theological conviction. While Hermias does not present the Christian faith directly, the contrast is implied: divine revelation brings unity and truth, while pagan speculation yields only folly and fragmentation.
Historical Setting and Evaluation
Though some scholars place Hermias in the third or fourth century, several internal clues suggest a composition date in the latter half of the second century. The cultural setting he addresses—one of persecution, pagan dominance, and philosophical arrogance—corresponds well to the environment under Marcus Aurelius. Moreover, his style resembles that of the earlier Apologists and of Lucian of Samosata, the pagan satirist who similarly skewered the philosophical elite—but from a skeptical rather than Christian perspective.
Donaldson, in his evaluation, considers the work small and unimportant in scope,¹ but not without its charm. Hase aptly described it as “eine oberflächlich witzige Belustigung über paradoxe Philosopheme“—a superficially witty amusement about paradoxical philosophical absurdities.
When Truth Smiles at Error
The Derision of the Philosophers may be little more than a pamphlet, but it preserves a unique angle in the early Christian critique of pagan thought. While most Apologists sought to refute error through reasoned discourse and appeals to Scripture, Hermias simply laughs at it. His voice, sharp and mocking, stands as a reminder that sometimes folly is best answered not with argument—but with satire.
Footnote
¹ As noted by Hase, the work is best seen as a witty but superficial attack on the paradoxes of philosophy rather than a deep theological argument.
